


Fragmented Memories

by Traxits



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Wordcount: Over 10.000, Work In Progress, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/pseuds/Traxits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellone moves back to Winhill, and she's surprised to see that Seifer is living there as well.  She hires him, Fujin and Raijin to assist her in remodeling her parents' home. But when Seifer is taken away by Galbadian soldiers, Fujin, Raijin, and Ellone have to make some serious life decisions in the face of one of the most publicized trials in the history of Galbadia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally my submission for [Megaflare](http://megaflare-ff.dreamwidth.org/), a Final Fantasy Big Bang hosted on Dreamwidth. However, due to personal issues, I couldn't finish it in time. With this year's Megaflare on the horizon, I wanted to finish this one before I sign up to participate.

The car rolled to a slow stop just in front of the house, and a young woman stepped out, reaching up to stop her short, dark hair from blowing into her face with the breeze. She smiled just a touch, her hand lowering as she stared up at the forgotten building. Of all the houses in Winhill, this one showed the truth of history. She shut the car door, walking up to the entry way. Her fingertips brushed against the cool metal of the door handle, and she flinched before jerking her hand back.

A swallow, she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, and then she pushed the door open. It wasn't locked. Didn't have a lock, actually, but in a town like Winhill, it didn't need one. Her hands trembled as the light from the doorway splashed over the battered kitchen. Bullet holes decorated the walls, and for one moment, her eyes closed and her throat tightened as she remembered the first time the soldiers had come for her.

The blood had been cleaned long ago, but when her eyes opened again, it flashed over her vision before fading. She swallowed and pushed her hair back out of her face. Her fingertips ghosted over the counter top, and she felt heat pricking at the backs of her eyes. Blinking quickly, she let the green scarf slide down off of her arms to the floor, and she picked up the first over-turned chair, tucking it neatly under the small table. Nicks in the blue paint on its surface brought back her smile, brought back visions of Laguna sitting there, telling her stories while he struggled to think of what to say to Raine.

Then, drawing a deep breath, she stepped around the table and touched the wall across from the front door. Her fingertips— smooth from a lifetime of being shuttled from one safe haven to another— brushed over one of the bullet holes, feather-light. Her throat tightened, and a tear rolled down her cheek when she didn't let her hand drop. She _connected_ , and the memories flooded her, coated her.

Estharian soldiers, the shouting and demanding and her mother's screaming. Blood splashing and the bullets ripping—

She let the tears come, sinking to her knees on the floor. Trying to catch her breath, she turned around, putting her back to the wall. The tears _hurt_ when they escaped her. Her chest was so tight that it ached, and she sat, her legs tucked under her, her back and head against the wall still riddled with the bullets that had killed her parents. The bullets that had taken her own life and offered only a mockery of a childhood in return.

The tears were for her parents. For Raine. They were the tears she dared not cry when Sorceress Adel forcibly took her to Esthar, when Dr. Odine strapped her into the chair and began analyzing her. They were tears for Laguna, never seeing Raine again; for Squall, never knowing his parents. They were the tears that _deserved_ to be cried, that needed to have been cried years ago.

She cried until she had nothing left, until she was so bone weary that she wasn't even certain she could go back to the car to fetch her bag. She spent the night in that kitchen, curled up against the baseboard of _that_ wall, unable to move, unable to think. For the first time in her life, she dreamed of the sea. No infringing memories. No unexpected appearances somewhere long before she had been born.

Just salty air and waves lapping at the side of a boat.

* * *

She woke laying on the floor, one arm folded under her head. Her side hurt, and she hissed as she pushed herself to sit on up. Her knees were screaming from being locked under her like that, but somehow, she felt … better. The sunshine poured into the room from dirty windows, and idly, she stretched out one of her hands to reach for it. The warmth of it on her skin made her smile, and she forced her protesting body to cooperate as she stood up.

She fetched her bag from the car, but instead of returning to that house, she stepped inside of the pub next door. She was armed with the deed that Kiros had provided her with when he purchased it for her, but it was an unnecessary precaution since no one was living there. She headed upstairs, taking them two at a time, the way she'd always wanted to as a child.

Her throat tightened only momentarily, and she dropped her bag by the stairs to hurry over to the window, looking out over the town with a smile on her face. The entire place was smaller than she remembered, but then, all childhood memories were distorted, weren't they?

She showered and changed into a pair of jeans and another sleeveless top, this one dark green instead of teal. She hesitated when she realized that she'd instinctively reached for her scarf, and for a moment, she rubbed the material between her fingertips. It was impractical. A fashion accessory that she'd fallen in love with because Edea had given it to her the day she'd been put on the ship. The day she'd been banished.

Compromising with herself, she wrapped it around her hips and knotted it, letting the ends fall loose around her legs. It made her think of a skirt, and she happily pulled on her socks and brown loafers before heading back downstairs.

She glanced around the pub, deciding that she would clean Raine's home first. It would give her a sense of accomplishment to clean and air it out, and perhaps offer the burst of confidence she needed to tackle her own house. She was well aware that she was making excuses, trying to avoid going back in there right away. At least she'd thought to stop and pick up cleaning supplies and general 'house' items before she'd gotten into Winhill though, and before long, she was wiping down the bar top, the tables, dumping out the dead flowers still sitting in stale bowls of water, and humming softly to herself all the while.

The strangest thing, she had to admit, was not the idea that she was the owner of a pub. It was the idea that **it** was all over. Honestly, she didn't know what to do with herself, suddenly adrift, her anchor raised. Laguna had wheedled and pleaded for her to stay in Esthar with him, but she could hardly expect him to pay for her... well, everything. What would she even do with herself? No marketable skills, no work experience. She was certain that there wasn't a spot on the job applications: _Spent most of life running from evil Sorceress from the future. Can connect one's consciousness back in time to experience the past_. At best, she had a lifetime of babysitting experience from living on the White SeeD ship, and she'd figured out pretty quickly that one couldn't live on babysitting alone.

Instead, Kiros had pulled her to the side and confessed that she had a large trust that Laguna had set up for her in Esthar, once he realized that he wasn't going back to Winhill right away. She could buy a property or two wherever she liked. He would push the paperwork through and be there to help her each step of the way. She had immediately known that there was only one property she wanted: Raine's pub.

He had handed her two deeds, both the pub and her old home, and she'd taken them with shaking fingers before getting on the train to go back to Winhill.

After almost eighteen years, she'd finally arrived back at home.

She finished downstairs with a good sweeping, deciding that she would mop later. By the time she got back upstairs, her body was protesting quite firmly against any more cleaning, but she didn't really have a choice. She realized as opened her power bar that she should have cleaned the room she would be resting in first, but it was too late to change anything. Instead, she simply drew a deep breath, finished the sweet granola bar, brought up her cleaning supplies, and went to work.

All of the bedding was thrown out, along with anything that looked too worn out to use. The previous owner had left a lot of things in the house though, and Ellone discovered several small trinkets— a gorgeous silver button, a silky smooth pebble, and a fountain pen that she was _certain_ had belonged to Raine— that she piled up near her bag.

Most of the furniture that had been left was original to the house, but almost all of Raine's decorations were gone. Sold, probably, or 'saved' by the townsfolk who had known her. Ellone spread out her own few possessions, living on the run her entire life had not exactly given her ample opportunity for shopping trips, over the room, and when she fell back on the bed, she surveyed it happily.

Her stomach growled, and she sat back up. She had to eat something, something _real_ , not another power bar. Sighing, she slid off of the bed and untied the scarf around her hips. She shook it out as she walked down the steps and to the front door, draping it over her elbows as she pulled the door shut. She lifted her head, looking down the street, and then she started walking, her throat tight.

The last time she'd walked down _that_ street, the lady from the flower shop had been taking her to Edea, to the orphanage. She could still feel the weight of carrying Squall, refusing to let anyone help her, as they sent her away. No one had cared enough for her to keep her, not when Esthar had invaded Winhill twice already for her. She didn't blame them. Couldn't. No one would have been able to keep her safe the way Edea had.

She swallowed back the memories, finding herself standing in front of the hotel. She could smell bread baking, even in the middle of the afternoon, and her smile eased back onto her face. She stepped inside, and the scent of basil and oregano filled her nose. She exchanged a warm smile with the woman at the counter— not the owner she remembered, but then, several of those people had died years ago.

When she got her bowl, Ellone carefully placed her gil on the counter top, and then she sniffed her lunch, her eyes closing. The woman had changed, but the recipe was the same. She hadn't had spaghetti like this since she had been a very young girl. A forkful, and her eyes closed briefly.

When she opened them again, the hotel lobby flickered before her, and she swallowed, forcing herself to focus. Slowly, her vision cleared, leaving the memory lost in the proverbial wind while she stared at the present. She scolded herself silently for being so careless; she could have easily _connected_ someone if she didn't keep a tighter reign on her abilities. The next bite tasted like ash, and she sighed, pushing the rest of her food around in the bowl. Guilt had a way of destroying even the most fleeting happiness.

"Are you new here?"

She lifted her head, looking up at the young man leaning over her table. He had short, dark hair, cropped close— Garden cut. He wore a SeeD cadet uniform. She sat a little straighter, one of her hands reaching for her scarf. "Yes," she replied quietly, leaving her fork in the bowl. "I arrived yesterday."

"Did you now?" He smiled easily, pulling out the chair opposite to her and sitting in it. "Welcome to Winhill then. I'm Devin, one of the town protectors." His smile widened into a grin, and she found herself laughing a little at his expression. Clearly used to it, he simply sighed loudly, waving a hand. "Laugh all you like, but Jules and I are the only reason you can even walk down the street."

She put a hand over her mouth to hide her amusement, and she tilted her head slightly. "You patrol for monsters then?"

"That's right. Caterchipillars and bite bugs are no match for us. … Which house did you move into?" He leaned forward, folding his arms over the top of the table.

"In the square by the pub."

"The one that's all shot up?"

She stilled, but her smile didn't move from her face. Her eyes lowered back to her bowl. "Yes," she murmured, her hand tightening around the fistful of her scarf. She _knew_ what the house looked like, but it still sent chills down her back to hear someone describe it so casually.

He didn't notice her reaction though. "Gonna need to fix that one up. Pretty lady like you gonna be able to by yourself?"

"Probably not. I don't know the first thing about repairing walls." She didn't look back up from her bowl, pushing a few of the noodles around with the fork. He reached for her hand, and she quickly dropped it under the table. Her gift didn't require physical contact, but it _was_ greatly enhanced by it. Physical contact wasn't something that she encouraged. She offered an apologetic smile, lifting her gaze to meet his.

"Well," his brow was furrowed, probably confused over her reaction, "I asked because if you need it, I'm sure that Jules and I could find some time to assist you."

"Don't you patrol?" She tilted her head curiously and forced her fingers to slowly release the scarf she held so tightly. "I would hate to detract you from your duties—"

"Oh, it's no problem. The monster population has gotten low enough that just one of us could patrol at a time if necessary. Of course, there would be the issue of payment..."

She nodded; that was understandable. Everything revolved around one's ability to pay for it, and thanks to her Uncle Laguna, she had a little money of her own. "I can pay you for your assistance." Had she any faith in her own abilities, she would have gladly done the work herself. Perhaps she could coax them into showing her how to do it?

"Yeah? Now, we're talking some pricey work, dear. I've been in that house." He leaned back in his chair, tracing some pattern over the top of the table with his fingertip.

Ellone stared at him for another moment before she nodded again. Of course it would. It was an older house, and it hadn't been taken care of since her parents had been alive, almost twenty years ago. "Yes, I suppose it would be. How much would it cost to repair?" She had some money on her, although she had left most of it in the bank in Esthar.

"Well..." His finger dragged in a circle over the tabletop. "With materials, perhaps... forty thousand gil?"

"For the whole job?" Her brow furrowed. She could afford it, but she would have to see about withdrawing more money from her account. Perhaps Kiros would send her some?

Devin laughed. "No, no. Per day, my dear. You have an expensive house."

"Or you're just eager to cheat someone. But that wouldn't be your intent now, would it, Devin?"

Her eyes widened as she looked up toward the stairs that led to the second floor. _Seifer_ was crossing the room; tall, blond, and menacing, his hand wrapped around the handle of his gunblade. He didn't even look at her. His gaze was focused on Devin, who visibly crumbled in front of him.

"O-oh, no. Of course not, Seifer." Devin fidgeted for a moment, and she watched as he finally stammered out some excuse and fled the room. It was only after watching him go that Seifer looked at her, and she couldn't bring herself to look away.

Seifer wasn't like Squall or Zell or Quistis or anyone else. There was no slow recognition, no confusion in those eyes. He didn't have to stumble through his memories blindly to figure out who she was. He saw her, and he _knew_ her. She supposed that she could thank the fact that he'd held her prisoner only a few months prior.

But she felt like she couldn't count the first time that she'd seen him after leaving the orphanage. He'd been consumed by Ultimecia's powers and outright insane. His eyes had slid right over her, recognizing her not as a person, but as the _thing_ that his mistress was seeking. She had forgiven him for it the moment that she had seen how far gone he had been.

"Ellone." He openly stared at her, his hand still lightly resting on the handle of the gunblade, and for a moment she returned the favor. He wasn't wearing the gray jacket, and he looked thinner. She wasn't entirely certain if he actually _had_ lost weight, or if seeing him without his over-the-top confidence and dramatic flair simply served to make him appear that way. It wasn't as though he were exactly small, still looming over her with a frame far larger than her own.

She reached up and pushed her hair back from her face, smiling warmly, a blush tinting her cheeks as she realized she'd been staring. "Seifer." Her voice didn't tremble, much to her own surprise, and she motioned to the chair across from her. "How lovely it is to see you."

He lowered himself into the chair, and his eyes narrowed at her. It was unnerving to sit so quietly across from that expression, but she managed as best she could, pushing noodles around in her bowl again. Finally, he asked her lowly, "What are you doing here, Ellie?"

She closed her eyes at the way he said her nickname so easily, the way he remembered what he'd always called her. If she had been able to forget the past year, it would seem like he'd never forgotten her at all. "I moved here yesterday. Bought Raine's old pub." Belatedly, she realized he wouldn't know Raine, and she blushed a little darker. "The one in the square?"

He leaned forward, propping his head up on one of his hands as he continued to study her. He didn't apologize for staring, but then again, he _wouldn't_. It wasn't his nature. "It needs work?"

"No." She reached for her scarf again, and she twisted a small piece of it around her hand. "No, the house next door does. It's..." She hesitated, and then admitted softly, "It was my parents' house." She reached up and pushed her bowl away from her, the smell from the sauce almost too much given the emotions roiling though her. "So, now I have to figure out how to fix walls, I guess." She made herself smile and looked back down at the tabletop.

"Let's go look at it." He stood and held out a hand to her. She swallowed, staring at it for a moment before she gingerly slipped her own into his grip. She was so braced against the onslaught of memories that she simply sat there, her hand in his, until he cleared his throat. A blush darkened her face when nothing happened, and she let him help her to her feet, sweep the bowl back over to the counter for the woman to pour into a plastic container, and then open the hotel door for her to exit.

Ellone drew a deep breath as she walked with him back to her home, and she marveled at the feeling fluttering in her throat. She could barely breathe, and when he reached for her to guide her around a pothole, she felt her skin tingle. She wasn't scared of him— how could she be? She knew him, knew him in the same way she knew Squall, Laguna. She had linked with him before, in a way she'd never explained to anyone.

He had been strange with her before, when he'd been so thoroughly spelled by Ultimecia that he had _breathed_ the Sorceress, but never had he been so quiet, so aloof. He kept glancing at her, clearly expecting something. Perhaps he expected her to hate him? Or at least be angry. That would be the normal reaction, she supposed.

But she wasn't normal. In fact, she was as far from normal as they came. A very faint smile touched her lips at the thought.

They didn't speak on the walk back, but it was far more comfortable than many of the conversations that Ellone had ever been part of. She opened the door to the house, and he held it open until she entered before him. He handed her the white plastic container holding her leftovers, and he walked across the room, his fingers ghosting over the shattered wall. Ellone felt something in the back of her throat, and she quickly looked away. She set the container on the counter and placed a hand on either side of the sink. Her eyes closed. She breathed.

"Ellie?" Seifer's voice was surprisingly soft, and when she turned to look at him, his eyes were searching, roving over her face for any expression that would have given her away.

But Ellone had been on the end of that particular gaze her entire life. Her response was immediate, learned. "I'm fine. What do you think?" Her smile was easy, a lie without even crossing her mind. She had to be fine, had to be okay her entire life. Anything less would have only made her an even more pronounced burden on her protectors.

Seifer glanced back at the wall, and he shrugged. "Looks easy enough. Needs some re-plastering, but it shouldn't be a big job."

"I can pay—"

"I can't take your money." He waved a hand, and then he stopped, a thought having come to him. "Can... Do you have room for us to stay here while we work on it?"

Ellone's eyes widened, and she shrugged. "I suppose so. I'm staying at the pub until this place is fixed up anyway. There's two bedrooms here. Fujin and Raijin are with you?"

"Yeah. Letting us stay here instead of at the inn is payment enough."

Ellone nodded, and she glanced at the wall. "How long do you think that it would take?"

"That eager to be rid of us?"

"Oh— No. No, don't think that; I'm just—" She stopped herself though when she saw how Seifer was studying her. She reached for the edge of her scarf, twisting it absently in her hands. "What?"

"I was teasing you," he finally explained, and he shook his head just slightly as he looked toward the door. "It shouldn't take but a few weeks. We'll make sure the place is sound before we leave you in it."

Ellone touched the counter top, her fingernails raking lightly over the scuffs and scratches. "I can't imagine Winhill without this house." She licked her lips, and then she looked back up at Seifer. "I can feed you and let you stay here in exchange for the work. If Fujin and Raijin would like payment as well, I can manage that. I'm not... I have my own resources, Seifer." She held her head up as he glanced at her again.

"I just didn't imagine you had many, given your lifestyle," he responded, and he shrugged. "Are you planning on staying here then? Running the pub?"

Ellone held the scarf firmly, refusing to twist it any more. It gave away too much. "I am. This is my home. I belong here."

The words lingered between them, and after a few minutes, Seifer nodded.

"Let me get Fuu and Rai. We can get to work in the morning. Is the pub in good condition?"

"Oh... yes. The pub just needed to be cleaned." She swallowed, and she wondered briefly at the way she seemed so nervous around him. "Actually, there are two rooms over there, so Fujin could stay with me if she liked."

Seifer smiled, just faintly but it was there all the same, and he held out his hand to her. Ellone took it, her heart thumping in her chest as she did. "I'm glad to see you're well, Ellie," he said quietly, and then he was gone, heading out the door, hand on his gunblade handle once more.

Ellone stood in the small kitchen, trying to catch her breath. She spent the rest of the evening, her productive mood gone, in the pub. Her leftover lunch became dinner, and by the time she laid her head on the pillow, she had developed a firm resolve to _not_ let Seifer unnerve her.

* * *

Ellone woke to noise on the first floor, and she stumbled blindly around her room for just a moment, having forgotten where she was. Her shin cracked against the dresser, and she hissed, the pain enough to jerk her back to the present. Her eyes focused, and she pulled on the first clothes that her fingers could find.

She was stopped once more at the door to her room, and it took her another minute to figure out that the door was locked; that was why it wouldn't open. She frowned, not remembering locking the door. Finally free, she slipped down the stairs, brushing her hair back from her face. She wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting to see there, behind the bar where the noise was coming from, but it certainly wasn't Fujin, straightening bottles and rearranging glasses.

Ellone stared at her for several moments, reaching up to comb her fingers through her hair as she realized that if Fujin was here, Seifer and Raijin wouldn't be too far behind. Fujin turned, looked at her, and the silence stretched between them. They looked at each other, and in a sudden flash, Ellone realized that Fujin was probably waiting for her to say something.

"I ... I wasn't expecting you so quickly," she managed, and then she felt like a fool. Seifer had assured her that they would be there, and she had even offered the second room in the pub to Fujin so that she didn't have to stay with Seifer and Raijin if she didn't want to. "My apologies. You... I heard you," she motioned vaguely toward the stairs, and a blush began to heat her face. "It scared me." It was a feeble explanation at best, but it was the only one she had to offer.

Fujin tilted her head to one side, her finger tapping lightly on the surface of the bar. "Locks," she finally said decisively, and she resumed her work, this time wiping down the counter.

Ellone hesitated, uncertain exactly what Fujin meant. "Did... you lock my door?"

Fujin nodded. "Safer." She didn't look back up though, and instead, she wiped her hands, surveyed the bar, and then picked up a small sheet of paper that she held out to Ellone without looking at her. "Requirements."

Confused and still a little more than half-asleep, Ellone crossed the room, took the paper, and looked it over. It was a list of alcohol and food products. Things that Ellone would need in order to run the pub. She smiled. "Thank you," she said softly. "Look, I'm going to go and ... actually dress properly. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Fujin didn't even seem to notice her, and Ellone shook her head slightly as she climbed the stairs again. She rubbed her shin as soon as she was in the room, and she took her time, reevaluating her dress and taking the time to brush her hair and secure it with a narrow green headband. By the time she was done, she could hear more noise coming from the bar, and she took the stairs two at a time as she headed back down.

Seifer and Raijin were at the bar, and Fujin was pouring something for each of them. Both of them turned when they heard Ellone enter the room, and while Seifer just nodded slightly toward Ellone— simple acknowledgment— Raijin openly stared at her. Ellone blushed under the scrutiny.

"You're very pretty, Ellone. Miss Ellone?"

"Just Ellone," she said with a slight giggle. She hoped it didn't sound as hysterical as she felt. She might never live it down. Seifer elbowed him, but Ellone could see a faint smile on Seifer's face all the same.

"Well, she is, ya know! You were pretty when we met you in Esthar, but..." He stopped momentarily to make a face at Seifer, but then he plowed on, full steam ahead. "I had other things on my mind, ya know?"

"I'm aware. Thank you." She placed a hand on the bar surface, and she watched as Fujin handed them both their drinks. It wasn't alcohol, or at least, Ellone didn't think it was. Truthfully, she wouldn't have known. It wasn't as though she'd had very many opportunities to drink after all.

"Fuu says that you don't lock your doors," Seifer finally said with a raised eyebrow, and Ellone looked back at him curiously.

"I've never needed to. Do you think I should?"

Seifer's eyes closed for a brief moment and then he exchanged a glance with Raijin. "I suppose if you had an army of SeeD to protect you, it wouldn't be a problem, but... There's a certain lack of them here in Winhill."

"Yeah! Those white SeeD aren't here, ya know?" Raijin leaned forward. "Would be sad if somethin' happened to you."

Ellone tilted her head. "No one is chasing me any more."

"There are other dangers in the world besides Sorceresses," Seifer said quietly. Ellone wondered if he was speaking of something in particular.

"Right," she said. "I will do my best to remember to lock my doors from now on."

"Ya know, it's awful nice of you to let us stay here, Miss Ellone. Since we kidnapped you an' all."

"Just Ellone, Raijin. And no, it's..." She stopped, uncertain of what exactly she could say. 'Fine' wasn't actually right, since it was decidedly _not_ 'fine' that they had kidnapped her with the intention of giving her to Ultimecia. "In the past," she finally said. "You're not going to do it again, are you?"

Raijin's grin was wide, genuine. "Course not."

Seifer raised an eyebrow. "He answers that sort of thing so easily." He looked up at Ellone, and for a minute, Ellone felt trapped by that gaze, by the expression he pinned her with. "We don't plan on it."

"Well, that's that then." She leaned forward just a little, doing her best to appear unaffected by the intensity of Seifer's gaze. "Why are you here in Winhill, Seifer?" Her eyes narrowed. "You should be in FH."

Seifer offered her a very small smile. "Why are _you_ here in Winhill, Ellie?" He leaned a fraction closer, and it took everything she had not to lean away from him. "You should be in Esthar."

The moment stretched, and finally, a glass appeared between them, breaking their staring contest. Fujin pushed it into Ellone's hand. Ellone took it with a small smile, and she shrugged slightly. "Dodge the question all you like," she said. "You'll tell me eventually."

Seifer shrugged as he pushed himself away from the bar. "We have work to do, Rai."

Raijin offered Ellone another one of his earnest grins. "See you later, Mi— ... Ellone."

Ellone watched them go, and then she turned to Fujin who handed her a bottle. For a heartbeat, Ellone was uncertain what was going on. Then Fujin raised an eyebrow and motioned toward the empty glass in Ellone's hand.

"Lessons."

Ellone's eyes widened, and she smiled. Fujin was going to teach her about bar tending.


	2. The Lover

Their routine was easy enough.

Seifer and Raijin spent their days working in the house while Fujin taught Ellone everything she needed to know about bar-tending Raijin was surprisingly good at fishing, so they had fresh fish regularly, offering one less thing that Ellone had to buy. Not that they were very demanding.

And the bar-tending was far easier than Ellone had originally suspected. It was the cooking that she didn't seem to be able to manage. Fujin had rescued their dinners more than once, and Ellone seemed doomed to be permanently learning everything. Fujin was patient with her, although she seemed to kick Raijin more frequently on evenings that Ellone had been exceptionally trying, and slowly but surely, Ellone began to improve.

All things considered, Ellone considered it some of the best days in her life. She could focus on the present, as best she could at least, and she didn't have to worry about someone appearing out of nowhere, ready to force her into destroying the world. Even if they had, she had Fujin, Raijin and Seifer there to defend her.

She was pretty sure that they would defend her. At the very least, and she tried not to think about it, they could and would cover her escape.

Her dreams grew worse though, presumably because she was sleeping with only a thin wall dividing her room and Fujin's. Fujin was a haunted woman, with memories that Ellone held no desire to live through. She did her best to keep her ability under reign, to keep herself in control. The first few nights weren't bad, but Ellone knew better than to let herself relax.

Prolonged exposure was almost as bad as physical contact. There was a reason she had occasionally been left in Balamb Garden instead of on the ship, after all. Even her most stalwart of SeeDs had to get away from her before long, and the small confines of the ship simply didn't allow for it.

She dreamed of nonsense things, of water and fights and things that she didn't recognize from someone else's memories. Then came the night that she saw the blood.

She was on her knees, screaming, her hands shaking as she pressed her fingers to her face. She was trying to stop the blood flow, trying to get her mouth to snap shut to stop the horrific sound escaping her. And she could hear someone behind her, someone murmuring, _"Such a lovely voice,"_ and that managed to silence her. Those words, breathed over her ear, cut her voice off as cleanly as a knife to her throat.

She felt as though she would burst, holding that scream in, and suddenly, the pressure and weight on her was gone. She gasped for air, opening her eyes slowly, biting her lip against the pain.

Someone picked her up, and her instinct was to fight, to scrabble and push herself away from them, but the arms holding her were unfamiliar. The body was too small to be _him_ (although Ellone couldn't have said who _he_ was), and a few strands of blond hair caught her attention.

 _"He can't hurt you."_

Ellone's eyes opened, and she lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. Tears streamed down her face, and she reached up toward the ceiling, exhaling slowly as the memory faded from her, as Fujin's life became her own again, not some experience to be shared and replayed as though it were a film.

She dressed with shaking hands— the experience never got any easier no matter how many times it happened— and she headed down the stairs. One at a time this time. She was fixing coffee when the door swung open, and she spared just enough of a glance up to make sure that it was Seifer. He didn't seem surprised to see her there in the kitchen, filling the kettle with water.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was gruff, and when she looked at him again, she realized that he must have just rolled out of the bed, because his hair was sticking up in places.

"Couldn't you?" There was a word for what they were doing; the verbal sparring, answering questions with questions. Ellone couldn't think of what it was though. "It's not even dawn yet." She found the coffee in the cabinet and turned it over to read the package. She wasn't sure of the ratio of coffee grounds to water.

Without warning, the package was removed from her hands, and Seifer was scooping grounds into the glass pot. He glanced up at her. "What, exactly, have you done your whole life, Ellie? Fuu tells me that you don't cook; you certainly don't look like you've had to do much work." His eyes rested on her hands, and Ellone immediately hid them behind her back. It was childish, but then, Seifer wasn't exactly being much better.

"I can be exceptionally quiet," she said as she watched him fold the package back down. She had watched her parents die while in a small, hidden cabinet in the kitchen. She had watched them bleed out in the floor as the Estharian soldiers ransacked her home, looking for _her_. For a brief moment, she could recall the incident in startling clarity, and it wasn't until Seifer crashed to the floor that she jerked back to reality.

A hand covered her mouth, and she dropped to her knees to check on him, to make sure that he was all right, that nothing had been broken in the fall. She hadn't meant to _connect_ him; hadn't meant to show him her point with such vicious cruelty. Her eyes closed as she felt his pulse.

He didn't move until the kettle began to whistle, and even then it was slow, pained. He rubbed at his head with his middle finger and thumb, and she quickly moved to pick the kettle up so that the whistle stopped. She half expected Fujin to rush down the stairs after that crash, but the pub stayed silent. Seifer watched her pour the water over the coffee grounds, watched her set the kettle back on the stove, away from the hot burner.

With shaking fingers, she put the lid of the pot on, and she glanced at the clock on the wall before she looked at him. "Are you—"

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, waving a hand at her. He leaned back against the bar, then moved around so that he could sit on the other side of it. "Was that..?" He trailed off, but the question was already there. _Was that the power that Ultimecia was looking for?_

She watched the minute hand on the clock. Three minutes passed before she nodded once, sharply. Seifer didn't pressure her any further, and two more minutes in, she pushed down the plunger on the coffee pot, trapping the grounds against the bottom and leaving the coffee filtered. She found two cups and poured them each one.

They sat in a silence broken only by the occasional clink of the mugs against the bar, and it wasn't until Fujin came down, ready to start the day, that they moved. Ellone glanced at her, looking for any signs of the nightmare that must have been plaguing her, but Fujin showed no signs, her face as impassive as ever. The sound of the door shutting made Ellone look back toward Seifer, but his mug sat on the table, still full, abandoned.

* * *

"Lunch is here." Ellone smiled, surprisingly easily given the coffee incident, as she settled the tray onto a clear space on the counter. "Where's Raijin?" Her brow furrowed as she held out one of the covered plates to Seifer. She shivered at the feeling of his fingers against hers, but then he had fallen back into a chair and opened the plate. He never simply sat, like a normal person would. Instead, he sort of glanced at where the chair was and simply … fell. There was no other way to describe it.

"Went to catch supper. Fish again, provided he doesn't get distracted." He shrugged, peeled off his gloves and grabbed the fork to push the food around on his plate. Nodding, Ellone slid into the seat across the table from him. She propped her head up on one hand and watched him eat, and it wasn't until he'd already devoured almost half of it that he stopped to look back at her. Lowering the roll from his lips, he swallowed and asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing." She hid her smile behind her hand, and Seifer reached out, pulling her hand from her mouth. A blush touched her face. She hadn't gotten used to how casual he was with her, but there was no denying that she appreciated it. He made her feel human. _Normal._

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand lightly, as though he didn't realize he was doing it. "Don't hide your smiles, Ellie."

"Never would have guessed that you were such a romantic, Seifer." She glanced down at their hands, found herself studying the scars crossing over his, wondering where they had come from. He squeezed her hand just a little, and she lifted her eyes to look back up at him. He stood and closed what little distance there was between them, kneeling at her side.

She swallowed, staring at him for a moment. He pulled her hand to his chest, and she knew instinctively that it was a moment she would replay in her head for the rest of her life. His hair was longer than it had been back during the war, mussed from the work on the wall. His dark blue t-shirt was covered in white dust from the plaster, and she wasn't sure who moved. It might have been him, but it was just as likely that it could have been her.

She just knew that their lips were suddenly touching— he was impossibly warm— and she could taste him on her tongue. Her hand lifted to touch the back of his neck, and he pulled her closer. There was a desperation lacing the touch, urging them to move. Something arced between them, and she made a soft noise— a whimper? Her hand slid down his shoulders, dug in for a heartbeat, and then she pushed him away. She brushed her fingers over her collarbone, and she couldn't breathe.

"Ellone?"

She pushed past him, ran to the door and escaped the pressure in the house. He didn't chase her, but she didn't turn to see if he watched her go. She couldn't think, not with him so close, not with his hands touching her and her head so _empty_. He was addictive, being able to live in the moment, being able to touch him and not see the visions flashing before her eyes.

Ellone ducked down the alley between the pub and the next house, put her back to the wall, and simply slid down. The grass was itchy against her legs, but she didn't care. Her head rolled back, and she stared at the sky, trying to blink back the tears that came with her cowardice. She shouldn't have run, but she couldn't make herself go back and face him. Not with his taste still on her lips.

She pulled her scarf around her shoulders and buried her face in it, dragging in deep breaths through the folds. It _smelled_ like him, even though the thought was foolish, fleeting. He hadn't been there long enough for anything of hers to smell like him.

Fujin found her that way some time later, still sitting in the grass, her back against the stone wall of the pub. She was hiding, and surely Fujin could see that much. She certainly saw everything else.

To her credit, she didn't say anything, just slid down and sat beside Ellone, but when she held out one of her arms, Ellone fell into her, twisting around to bury her face against Fujin's shoulder. She couldn't stop hiccuping, couldn't stop herself from crying all over again. Fujin patted her shoulder, then made a soft noise and wrapped her arms around Ellone, holding her close. Ellone melted into the embrace, needing it more than she cared to admit.

She was the strong one. She was the one who had been chased her entire life by evil and still found ways to smile, who held her White SeeDs as they broke down (eventually, they each had, because how could they protect her against someone wearing the face of the woman they all loved?). But this time, she couldn't shoulder her burden alone. She didn't know how.

And so help her the only person she had to talk to about anything was Fujin, the stoic woman who seemed supremely uncomfortable holding Ellone as she cried.

"H-he," she swallowed, knowing that her voice was muffled against Fujin's shoulder and not caring, "he kissed me, Fujin. I … I didn't know what to do." She eased back and reached a hand up to wipe her eyes. Fujin offered her the end of Ellone's own green scarf and, with a shaky smile, Ellone took it and dried her eyes.

"Return?" Fujin tilted her head, and Ellone wrapped the scarf around her hand, clutching it.

Did she return the attention? She had certainly kissed him back. "I don't know," she whispered as she stared at the grass. She couldn't even seem to think anymore around him. Fujin touched the side of her face, and Ellone glanced up at her. Without warning, Fujin leaned in, touched their lips together. Ellone's eyes widened, and Fujin's hand slid around to the back of her neck, keeping her there.

It was sweet, gentle, and entirely unlike the hurried, almost rough kiss she had shared with Seifer. Their lips had scarcely touched before the chattering washed over her, and she found herself frozen at the sight of a pair of much younger figures, one silver and one gold, sitting on the edge of the dock in Balamb.

 _"Are you sure, Fujin?"_

 _"Please." A moment passed, and then he leaned over to her, pressing his lips to hers._

Something in her chest twisted, and by the time Fujin drew back, Ellone was trembling, reaching up to touch her lips hesitantly.

"Like his?"

It took her just a moment to grasp the meaning of what Fujin was asking, and when she did, Ellone flushed darkly. "No, Fuu. Not like his." She licked her bottom lip and drew her knees to her chest. No kisses were like the ones Seifer offered, where she could feel what was happening to her and no memories overlaid her own experiences. She risked a glance up, and she saw that Fujin understood, or at least, she understood as much as she could.

With that, Fujin stood, dusted herself off, and held out a hand to Ellone. One silver eyebrow arched, and she offered a very small smile. "Answer," she said, matter-of-factly, as she helped Ellone to her feet. Ellone supposed she was right; she did have her answer.

"Why aren't you with him?" It was impossibly rude, but Ellone couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. She felt Fujin tense beside her, and for a moment, she was horrified by her own question. But then Fujin offered her another of those barely-there smiles.

"Hurt," she whispered, and Ellone felt the ache in her own chest return.

"Did he—?"

"Not Seifer." She didn't offer anything else though. Instead, she took Ellone's wrist and led her back into the pub, where the drink mixing utensils were waiting. More lessons.

* * *

Ellone wasn't certain what she felt, but she knew that she enjoyed the time she spent with Seifer. He often came in on the tail end of a lesson, or just as Ellone would fire up the stove to attempt to cook dinner. Fujin always made lunch, and gradually, she relinquished supper to Ellone's inexperienced hands. Seifer liked to watch Ellone cook; or at least, she assumed he did. He was always there when she started.

Maybe he was concerned that she was going to set them all ablaze. She laughed at the thought: the great Ellone, sought after for eighteen years, and she was defeated by an unruly bowl of chili. Wouldn't that have been a punch line for Ultimecia to enjoy?

"What's funny?" He fell onto one of the bar stools, raising an eyebrow as he leaned forward over the top of the bar to see into the kitchen. Little specks of plaster fell from his shirt to the bar top, and she frowned just a little before she threw a dish towel at him.

He caught it, much to her annoyance. Just once, she wanted to smack him in the face with the towel. It would have delighted her to no end, seeing that white and blue striped cloth connect with his supremely self-satisfied face. He wiped the top of the bar.

"Nothing," she replied, and she began opening cans to pour into the pot. "Just... never thought I'd get to this point," she said slowly. Her hands stopped what they were doing for a moment, and then she shook off the momentary melancholy. "It's strange, that's all."

"So you were laughing because life is strange?" He threw the dishtowel over his shoulder, slid off of the bar stool, and came over to stand beside her. Unceremoniously, he bumped her away from the stove, and he took over the chili. She leaned back against the sink, studying him again.

Speaking of strange things, it was truly bizarre to see him looking so domestic. For once, the gunblade was... somewhere else, and with the dishtowel over his shoulder, he looked almost normal. At the angle she stood at, she couldn't even see his scar clearly. She wondered what it would have been like to meet him like this, to see him doing something so normal all the time.

The thought caused a pain in her chest that she didn't care for, so Ellone dismissed the thoughts. Instead, she hoisted herself up to sit on the counter top.

"Seifer?"

He looked up at her, and she motioned for him to come to her. He hesitated, put the lid on the chili, now set to simmer, and slowly, he moved closer to her. "What?"

She motioned again, and he took one more step. They still hadn't discussed what had happened in the other house. The kiss. She reached out, caught his wrist, and pulled him closer to her. He licked his bottom lip, then raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head.

"Do you have some sort of plan, Ellone?"

She looked up at him sharply. He never used her full name. "No," she admitted, and she sat up a little straighter, trying to work up her courage. "No plan." She leaned forward a fraction, and when he didn't move away, she closed her eyes.

It was slower than their first kiss, more gentle, although it held nothing on the kiss she'd shared with Fujin. At least, she didn't think it did. She couldn't remember the kiss with Fujin very clearly, if she was honest with herself. It wasn't like kissing Seifer, where she could be completely in the moment, where she could focus on the sensation of his lips against hers.

He pulled back slowly, but he didn't open his eyes. Ellone shivered, unsure if that was a good thing or not. He groaned and dropped his forehead against the cabinets behind her. It put him uncomfortably close, and Ellone squirmed. One of his hands slid up her hip, and she felt a shot of something racing under her skin.

"You have to stop doing this, Ellie," he murmured, and his breath ghosted over her neck. Her eyes closed again. She wasn't doing anything. She was quite certain of that. Seifer was the one doing everything, the one causing the funny feeling in the bottom of her stomach, the one making her skin tingle so sharply.

"Seifer—"

He put a finger over her mouth, and then he moved it just enough to kiss her again, his hand cupping the side of her face as he tasted her, as he drank her in. She moaned lowly into his mouth, and he was kissing her harder, more desperately, as though he couldn't get enough of her. When he finally drew back, she swallowed thickly, forcing her eyes to open.

"Seifer," she started again, and he shivered in her arms.

"What?"

She had wanted to ask him if he regretted it, kissing her, but clearly he didn't. So instead, she asked him, "Are you going to hurt me?" It was a dumb question, one that she was pretty sure that she already knew the answer to. His hand slid down her thigh, and he sighed softly over her ear.

"Yes." He was honest with her, and she could appreciate that. Her whole life had been condolences and assurances, promises that no one was certain they could keep. But not from him. Not from Seifer.

She licked her lips. "Are you going to hurt me tonight?"

"Not tonight," he murmured, and she nodded jerkily as she eased her arms around his shoulders.

"Then... I want you to..." She hesitated, uncertain of exactly how to word her request. Heroines in books and movies tended to be overly dramatic, with beautiful make-up and perfect dresses as they clutched to their hero, asking him to 'take her' right there. But she was Ellone Loire, and she was sitting on the edge of the counter top in jeans and a white tank top. Her green scarf was knotted around her hips.

She wasn't some sort of dramatic heroine, and when Seifer pulled back to look at her, she blushed. She couldn't look away, couldn't let herself. He groaned again and pulled away from her. She shivered, suddenly cold without him looming over her. "Seifer?" She had done it all wrong.

"Damn it," he muttered, and he double-checked the burner on the chili before he took her hand and led her up the stairs. It wasn't quite as romantic as being carried, but it was close enough. Besides, it wasn't as though she could be picky. There weren't that many guys she could consider doing this with to begin with.

He pushed her down to sit on the bed, and she hesitated, certain that this wasn't right. She hadn't had sex before, but she knew that this was entirely too calm, too controlled to be the passion he had kissed her with only moments earlier. She swallowed and looked up at him as he locked her door.

Seifer knelt in front of her, and he framed her face between his hands, pulling her down for a soft kiss. He didn't open his eyes again after he pulled back, instead choosing to lean forward just a little. "Ellie, I can't..." He floundered, and she looked at him curiously, a little surprised by his lack of polish. She had assumed that he would be well versed in this. "I can't take advantage of you—"

"I'm an adult," she said firmly, moving to make him look up at her. "I am well aware of what I'm asking you, Seifer." She swallowed, doing her best to keep her voice as steady as she could. His hand was back on her thigh, and she didn't want him to take it away again. "I want this. With you."

He looked at her for a long moment, and he smiled faintly. There was no humor behind it. "I can't tell you no," he finally replied, and he kissed her once again. This time, he didn't stop, didn't pull away to catch his breath. He kissed her as though it would be the last time he could. His hands slid up her thighs, over her hips, and untied her scarf.

As it fell to the floor, Ellone lifted her own shaking hands. Seifer took his time with her, guided her as sweetly as he could, and when she cried out from the sudden pain in the middle of her pleasure, he stopped, kissed her, worked her through it. He didn't leave her when it was all over, and they didn't even go back down for dinner. Presumably, Fujin or Raijin discovered and finished up the chili. When she slept that night, stretched out over his chest, there were no dreams.

* * *

She was walking back up the street, the grocery basket over her arm. The sunshine was warm on her skin, and Ellone smiled up into it, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the moment. She had changed, had grown, and she wouldn't have traded her new life for anything. One of her hand lifted to catch her dark hair just as it fluttered over her face, and when she had it tucked back behind her ear, she felt her breathing catch.

There were soldiers just outside of the door of her home. Galbadian soldiers, but that didn't stop her from gasping, didn't stop her heart from skipping a beat. Her knees wobbled, then simply gave out, and she collapsed in the dirt on the street, her hand pressing against her chest, as though she could force her body to cooperate. The sunlight glinted off of their weapons— swords and guns— and the man in the uniform the color of blood— _rivers of it pouring along the floor, creeping ever closer to her sandaled feet_ — looked at her.

She hiccuped, tears in her eyes blinding her for a moment until she shook her head. Fruit was rolling across the street, having escaped the basket, and she saw one of the soldiers in blue start toward her, holding out a hand. She screamed then, incapable of stopping herself, and she scrabbled back, trying to put more space between them.

The man in the red uniform said something sharply, and the blue soldier headed back, holding up his hands. He was apologizing, she thought, trying to prove that they weren't there for her, but she knew better. She _knew_ how this would happen, and then the man in red was proving her right, walking toward her. There was a loud crash, two, and then Seifer spilled out of her house, yelling and waving them all away from her.

He was the one who came to her, who knelt beside her and calmed her, made her catch her breath. "They're not here for you," he whispered, and she felt her heart slow a little. "I wouldn't let them take you." Her hands were shaking as she grasped at his shirt, as she looked up at him.

"We have to run," she replied, and he looked at her for a long moment before he shook his head.

"This is your home, Ellie," he said softly, and there was something sad about it, something... resigned. Ellone's breath caught once more in her throat, making her ache. He smoothed her hair down, pressed a kiss to her lips, and there was a fresh burst of activity as Fujin and Raijin both forced the last of the soldiers out of Ellone's home.

She smiled weakly.

"Ellone, they're here for me."

"What?" She glanced back at Seifer, who waved one of the soldiers back away from them again. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, her eyes narrowing. "You can't go."

He kissed her softly, and just as he pulled back, he murmured, "I have to go. You'll be safe, Ellone. Fuu and Rai will stay with you—"

For a moment, he didn't make sense, and then her eyes widened. "This is why you weren't in FH." He had been _waiting_ for them to come and get him. Her eyes cut back toward the soldiers. "You told them where you were?"

He touched the side of her face again. She wanted to jerk back, to be angry at him, but she couldn't. If they were going to take him, it might be the last time that she ever saw him. She wasn't about to waste the last of the memories she was capable of making on anger. She leaned up and took another kiss from him. "You told me that you'd hurt me," she whispered, realizing that this had to have been what he meant.

Seifer drew away from her slowly, and he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him in a too-tight hug. She didn't stop him. When he stood, he helped her to her feet, and she composed her face as best she could. Together, they walked back to the soldiers. Fujin and Raijin were waiting for them.

"Fight?" Fujin glanced back at Seifer, who simply shook his head.

"Take care of Ellone," he ordered, and Fujin and Raijin, his own little soldiers, his _posse_ , nodded sharply, although protest was clearly on Raijin's lips. Fujin grabbed Raijin's arm, keeping him silent, and Seifer stepped forward to the soldiers.

The man in red nodded sharply to Ellone, and for a moment she faltered, trying to remember where she knew him from. She gasped. "You were stationed here," she whispered quickly, and he stepped back, clearly surprised that she even remembered him. "When Esthar was invading."

"I... yes. Miss, we didn't mean to scare you—"

"Take care of him," she said quickly, realizing that his guilt was a way for her to assure herself that Seifer wouldn't be mistreated, not by the soldiers at least. And he hesitated before he nodded slowly. She reached for the scarf around her hips, tore off a section that she knotted firmly around Seifer's arm. "Don't lose that," she murmured, and she kissed him again.

He lingered for only a moment, breathing in deeply, as though he wanted to take something of her with him, and then they left, loading him into the armored vehicle. She narrowed her eyes as she realized that they hadn't bothered to cuff him.

For a few minutes, they all three watched the car go, until finally, Raijin leaned over to her. "What are we gonna do?"

"Where will the trial be?" She looked back, and they both exchanged looks.

"Deling," Fujin finally supplied.

"Then we're going to Deling." Ellone wiped the tears still lingering in her eyes, forced herself to breathe. She had lost too much, sacrificed too much over the course of her life. She wasn't about to lose Seifer as well. She would get him back.


	3. The Successor

Ellone learned one thing on the drive to Deling: her little green car had never been intended to hold someone Raijin's size. He spent most of the ride stretched out in the backseat because every time he attempted to sit up, he only managed to hit the top of his head on the roof of the car. Fujin frowned each time he did it and pushed him back to lay down.

They checked into the hotel in Deling under Ellone's name, and the hotel clerk hesitated when Ellone spelled her surname.

"Loire?"

"That's right." She shifted her weight, her brow furrowing. "Is there a problem?"

The woman shook her head. "No, no problem."

And then they were swept up into their room. Fujin and Ellone had decided that sharing a single room with two beds was the best idea, even though Ellone cringed at the thought of such close contact. Raijin had deposited what bags they carried. Ellone, used to running, had packed even lighter than the SeeDs. Fujin had been pleased.

Fujin and Raijin split up, presumably to locate where the trial would be held, and within moments of their arrival, Ellone was sitting alone in the hotel room. She rubbed a hand over her arm.

She wasn't used to being alone. The trip from Esthar to Winhill had been the longest time she'd ever spent on her own, and since Fujin and Raijin and Seifer had moved in, she hadn't had more than a few minutes at a time to herself. And when she slept. She glanced around, her eyes lingering on the phone, and for a moment, she entertained the idea that she could call someone.

That she knew of someone she _could_ call.

But really, who would be there? Squall and Quistis and Zell were all in Balamb Garden— or on a mission somewhere— and Selphie was back in Trabia. She couldn't call anyone in Esthar, and she was pretty sure that Edea was still keeping a low profile. After all, it had been her face everyone had seen.

So Ellone called no one, just paced in the room, uncertain of what she could do. She shivered again, sat on the edge of the bed, and just as she was considering _connecting_ , seeing what she could find out that way, there was a knock on the door. Raijin came in before she could say anything, and she raised her eyebrows at the tall figure just behind him.

"Irvine." She smiled warmly and stood, and he crossed the room to her, taking his hat off as he did. He smiled back, and she was pleased to see that he, like Seifer, had no trouble recalling her. He didn't struggle with fuzzy memories and a half-forgotten past.

"Sis." He hugged her close, and she was careful not to touch his skin. He wore enough fabric that it was easy, and when he finally let her go, he held her at arms' length, as though she were a child to be inspected. "You look well," he announced.

She laughed, waving a hand. "I am well. ... Sort of."

Raijin nodded vigorously. "Seifer's gonna stand trial," he explained as Irvine frowned at both of them. "He... He's different, ya know?"

"Since Ultimecia," Ellone added.

Irvine nodded slowly, and from the shadows on his face, she was pretty sure that he understood. "We're all different, Sis," he said, and then he glanced back at her. "So, Raijin flagged me down to meet you so that I could help?"

Ellone blushed and twisted one end— the end she hadn't ripped— of her scarf. "Can you?"

Irvine stood there for a long minute, then finally sighed. "I think I can," he said lowly, and then he walked over to the phone and began dialing. Ellone fidgeted as she waited, until she finally sat down, laying her hands flat on the blanket. Raijin walked over and he rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. Comforting her, she realized after a heartbeat. She smiled up at him, drew a breath, and then Irvine was speaking.

"Garden. Yeah. ... Irvine Kinneas." He tapped a foot. "Yeah. No, I need to request SeeDs from Balamb and Trabia Gardens. ... Yes. Squall Leonhart, Quistis Trepe, and Zell Dincht. Selphie Tilmitt." He glanced back and held up a finger to Ellone and Raijin. "Right. Thank you." He hung up the phone, and quietly, he asked her, "Have you told Laguna yet?"

She shook her head slowly. "No way to contact him," she murmured, and she wondered at his position if he were able to simply request SeeDs like that. He must have guessed her question because he held up a hand.

"Don't ask me, Sis," he said softly, and he crossed the room to look at her. After just a minute, he pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the top of her head—

 _There was a casket lowering into the ground and someone was holding her hand. She looked up at the tall blond man and the breath fled her lungs—_

She smiled up at Irvine, doing her best not to express that anything at all was different. She didn't want him to know that she had seen a moment of his past, had shared the heart-rending emptiness that came with watching a casket disappear beneath the dirt. She must have done well because Irvine didn't seem to notice that anything was different.

"Get some rest," he told her quietly, and then she reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve just as he walked in front of her, heading toward the door. He stopped short.

Raijin's hand was suddenly even heavier on her shoulder, and Ellone drew a deep breath before she looked up at Irvine. "I want to see him," she whispered.

"Seifer?" He licked his bottom lip, and he turned to look at her. He was searching for something, trying to see exactly what Seifer was to her. Ellone wasn't sure how to hide that, wasn't sure if she could. Seifer had changed her, repaired something that she had considered as irreparably damaged as the wall of her home in Winhill. Now that house stood tall and firm, history erased from it. She was doing her best to mimic it.

Ellone straightened her back and lifted her chin. "Yes," she said firmly. "I want to see him."

"I don't know if I can manage that, but let me find out." Irvine hesitated just another minute, and he added, "I'll do everything I can for you."

The words twisted in her chest. They were a remnant of an affection that even she could scarcely remember. Irvine felt that he owed her because he thought that he should, not because she had ever done anything to actually earn it. He was assisting her out of some misunderstood gratitude. Her throat tightened at the thought, and for the first time that she could remember, she lied.

"Thank you," she whispered, and her hand slid from his sleeve. She _had_ lied with those words because instead of correcting him, instead of assuring him that they were even, that he was his own person not some shadow of a memory, she had taken advantage of him. She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump that had begun to choke her.

* * *

The court room was exceedingly uncomfortable. Ellone sat with Fujin and Raijin on either side of her, and occasionally, Raijin would nudge her and offer her a supportive smile that she couldn't quite make herself return. Seifer was near the front of the room, and the new President of Galbadia sat across from him. Seifer was leaned back in his chair, appearing as calm as he could. Strangely, he was still not handcuffed, although two soldiers in bright red uniforms stood on either side of him.

She couldn't figure out why they hadn't cuffed him. Squall, Rinoa, and Zell sat in the row just before Ellone. Selphie and Quistis were on their way, although they had needed to be called back from missions. Irvine was sitting in the front row, looking even more uncomfortable than everyone else, his hat on his knee. An older gentleman was sitting beside him, and periodically, Irvine would bend his head close to the man, then smile as he leaned back. Ellone's eyes narrowed.

She wasn't used to being in the back like this, to being someone not of the utmost importance. No one in the room knew who she was aside from her friends. She chafed a little at the anonymity, even though she had spent most of her life embracing it. Sighing, she leaned forward a little, struggling to see Seifer better. He wasn't looking at the crowd his trial had drawn though, wasn't looking for her. He probably thought she was still in Winhill, pining away.

Her teeth clenched at the thought. She resisted the urge to _connect_ everyone in the room just long enough to insure that they would pass out. They couldn't stop her from storming up to Seifer then, couldn't stop her from hitting him. One good smack across the jaw. She could see it. It would make her feel better.

Well, maybe. She was the first to admit that she wasn't entirely used to the emotions roiling through her, crashing against her, waves from an ocean she'd not known existed. A hand touched her arm, crushing her scarf between them, and she looked over at Fujin.

"Strong," she murmured and inclined her head toward the front of the room, where the President had just finished giving his speech, calling the courtroom to order. Ellone swallowed, nodded her compliance, and sat, on the edge of her seat for the reading of the charges.

She found herself drifting during the reading— "burning of several small towns, unauthorized use of military personnel..."— and she spent the entire time willing Seifer to look at her. It wasn't until she heard her name that she looked back at the president.

"During an unauthorized search for one Ellone—"

She hesitated, and Fujin's hand tightened on her arm, kept her from standing, from saying, 'Yes. He located me and I'm safe and can I take him home now?' That would get her held in contempt of court, she was certain. She shivered, and the president continued reading off several items.

Finally, he looked up, raised an eyebrow at Seifer, and asked, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Seifer stood very slowly, and he considered the question for a moment. Ellone's heart lifted as she spotted the bright green of her scarf piece tucked into his sleeve, wrapped around his wrist. "I was under orders, sir," he replied. "I was given command of the Galbadian Army, and I authorized everything that you just read off."

The silence in the courtroom was deafening for exactly the space of two heartbeats, then pandemonium broke out. Several people leaped to their feet, shouting, and the SeeDs in the front leaped to _their_ feet in order to keep the mob from stampeding. The president ordered Seifer removed from the court room, and the two soldiers rushed him out one of the back doors. Ellone hesitated, then she, too, stood, and just as the President started to escape the chaos, she announced as loudly as she could, "I'm Ellone."

Several people stopped shouting, looked up at her, and she stood up on the chair she'd been sitting on, ignoring Fujin's insistent tugging on her skirt. She was shaking, and her stomach was churning, but there was no going back. The President hesitated, met her eyes, and she said it again, her voice far steadier than it rightfully should have been. "I'm Ellone."

Irvine was the one who darted back to her, grabbed her arm, and took her up to the President. He hissed quickly in her ear, "Not the best way to do that," but she didn't care. She couldn't think of any other way to get the man's attention, and he had to know the entire story. It wasn't fair of him to judge Seifer based on only half of the facts, and Ellone was completely sick of injustices in her world.

They were led back into a private chamber, and the president sighed loudly as he reached up to rub his forehead. For just a moment, Ellone realized that it would be easy to feel sorry for him. He had been put in a bad position, forced to reassure the people that the injustices of the war would not be forgotten, that those who had so viciously attacked President Deling would be punished. Only, he couldn't punish them, especially since Ultimecia was dead and Edea had claimed safe haven in Balamb Garden. That left Seifer, the only other figurehead that he could actually locate.

Ellone _could_ have pitied him, and quite easily at that, but she refused to. She didn't want to pity him, didn't want to think of him as anything other than the enemy. That had been what the SeeDs had taught her while she was aboard the ship. One couldn't consider the enemy to be human, couldn't let oneself really care for them, particularly not during war. And until Ellone was settled, until she felt safe again, she was at war.

She held her hands in front of her, clasped tightly, and she hoped that the president wouldn't notice her white knuckles. "President—" she faltered, realizing that she didn't know his name.

"President Roshfall," Irvine said smoothly, stepping in front of her. "You have our apologies for that."

"Mr. Kinneas," the president began slowly, sighing and waving his hand slightly. "I really have enough on my plate without this. What exactly are you trying to pull here?"

Irvine glanced back at Ellone, a sharp reminder to keep quiet. "This is Ellone," he replied, and Ellone frowned back at him. She had said that. Had announced it, in fact, to everyone in the courtroom. "She is the one the army was after."

The president stared at her. Ellone remained perfectly still, used to being inspected so closely. She was the Successor in Esthar, an unofficial title that held the greatest honor, no matter the stigma attached to Sorceresses. She, alone, according to the propaganda, had been chosen to receive Adel's powers. She could tolerate the Galbadian president staring a little too openly.

"Why you?"

Ellone smiled. She couldn't help it. She'd been asking herself that question ever since she'd been old enough to understand what was happening to her. "Because I'm the girl that Adel invaded Galbadia for," she finally decided on, and the president's eyes widened.

"From Winhill?" He stood, his hands on the top of his desk. "You're the girl that Esthar took before the country was destroyed?"

Ellone bit her tongue, didn't let herself correct him. A quick glance toward Irvine assured her that she wasn't the only one who wanted to laugh at the thought of Esthar being destroyed. "Yes, Pre—"

"Mr. President," Irvine muttered.

"Mr. President," Ellone corrected, willing herself to be patient. She wasn't familiar with Galbadia as a whole, and certainly not with their governmental structure. She'd never spent a whole lot of time in Galbadia.

"How did you escape— No. That's not the question here." The president sighed and looked at her, his eyes sharp as they raked over her. "What angle are you playing that you wanted to disrupt my courtroom?"

Ellone swallowed, looked at Irvine, but he simply held out a hand, a sign she should speak for herself. She drew a breath. "Seifer was being controlled," she said firmly. "By the Sorceress."

"Edea?"

A wince, and then Ellone shook her head. "No. Edea was being controlled by another Sorceress. Ultimecia."

The president gave her a weary look. The man seemed about ready to crash as he lowered himself back into his chair. "Ultimecia?"

"Yes, sir." _From the future_ , she wanted to add, but the story was outlandish enough. There was no need to tack anything else on. "She was killed by a SeeD."

Irvine nodded, correlating her story. "Squall Leonhart, from Balamb Garden. Ultimecia is dead."

"So... neither Edea nor Seifer were at fault for their actions then? That's what you want me to go out there and say?" The president rubbed his forehead. He probably had a headache. Ellone did.

"Yes, sir. It isn't fair to punish them for something that they weren't in control of." Ellone's voice was steady, and once more, she was quite proud of herself. She could do this whole politicking thing if she put herself to it. "They were at the mercy of Ultimecia, same as the crowd in Deling during the Sorceress's Parade." She didn't need to remind him of that incident. Several camcorders had recorded the whole thing: the crowd's cheering as Edea slaughtered Deling before them. It wasn't the brightest spot in Galbadia's history.

The president looked at her sharply, then he shook his head. "Miss Ellone," he began, and Ellone's stomach sank. He wasn't going to agree with her. "I do not have a choice in this matter. He committed some terrible crimes; someone has to brought to justice for them."

Ellone started to speak, started to step forward, but Irvine's hand caught her elbow. She felt her world shifting at the contact, but she forced her vision to straighten back out, to keep firmly in the present. She watched him bow slightly. "Yes, sir. We understand. We would just like for you to keep that in mind during this trial." Irvine's hand was tight, almost too tight against her arm, and Ellone took it as a sign that she shouldn't speak again. He was in his element here, strangely comfortable given that he was speaking to the Galbadian president.

She could prove it to them, she realized in a flash, a moment of brilliance so bright that it almost hurt her head. She could connect—

But the pain in her elbow from Irvine's hand was too sharp. She couldn't focus like that, not with him making their excuses and dragging her out of the room behind him. They stopped in a narrow hallway, just between the president's chamber and the courtroom. He looked back at her.

"Really? What were you thinking?"

"No one was doing anything and—"

"You asked for my help, Sis. I got Squall and Quistis and Selphie and Zell here. We're going to help you and Seifer both."

She swallowed. "Irvine..." She bit her lip when he looked at her, a combination of being simply worn out and hopeful all at once. "Irvine, you're hurting my arm." She smiled slightly as he dropped it. Another moment. "And thank you. It just... It was a little upsetting to see him like that," she whispered.

Irvine didn't hesitate as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulled her close. "Don't. Hyne knows Zell or Selphie would've done the same thing. Or Squall, had it been Rinoa up there." He smiled, and she giggled just faintly.

"Had Rinoa been where?" Squall's voice cut through sharply, and Irvine sprang back from Ellone, suddenly wearing a guilty expression. Ellone giggled again. Nerves always made her a little giddy.

"On trial," she replied, and she looked up at Squall, really looking at him for the first time since he'd chased her so fervently all the way up to the space station. He, like Seifer, had been so far gone with his duty, with his role in the play they were acting out that he hadn't even realized who she was beyond a simple thing. Something that could save Rinoa.

She had no doubt that Squall would have done the same thing. He was her brother, after all.

He didn't crush her in a hug though, and it would have surprised her if he had. Instead, he simply looked her over, assuring himself that she was okay, that she was healthy, and then he nodded once. "Sis," he said with perhaps a touch of reverence in the word. He sounded exactly like he had as a small boy in that moment.

He wanted to ask her what she was doing there. She could see it, could feel it in the way he stared at her. Given his intense rivalry with Seifer, she wouldn't have been the least bit startled to know that he could _smell_ Seifer on her skin. The thought gave her pause. Did she smell like Seifer?

But then Squall was speaking, asking her how she'd been doing, _what_ she'd been doing, and she let him guide her back into the court room. The SeeDs flanked her as they all left, and for once, she felt at home, felt at ease. She walked perfectly in time with them, having long since perfected the art. She was used to such an entourage.

* * *

In the end, it was Squall who managed to get her into D-District Prison. She didn't like being there. Metal had always had a curious effect on her senses, not ... intruding exactly, but being far from comfortable. It was a large part of why she never lingered in Balamb Garden, despite how close it let her be to everyone. At least she wasn't forced to walk down through the prison, wasn't exposed to all those dreams and memories that were thick enough she thought they might be tangible.

She despised prisons.

Squall flexed some sort of SeeD muscle to get his way, and within only moments of Irvine driving with her out to the prison, she was standing near the edge of a massive hold, looking curiously down over the side of it. When she heard the machinery jerking and squealing, she quickly waved Irvine and Squall away. They stared at her, sighed, and then Squall said, "If he hurts you—"

She didn't let him finish. She simply placed a hand in the middle of each of their backs. "I will be fine," she assured them. Suddenly, she wished that Fujin and Raijin were with her instead of Squall and Irvine. She wondered at that thought.

Then the prison cell was being locked into place, and she hurried over to it, clasping her hands in front of herself. The door opened, and Seifer looked up from his seat on the edge of the small bunk. Of all things, what caught her attention was the way he held the edge of the bunk so tightly that his knuckles were white. She swallowed.

"Seifer," she murmured, and they stayed exactly like that, her standing in the doorway, dust that refused to return to the desert blowing around her, and him sitting there, the light glinting off of the metal necklace and his blond hair. He was the one who moved, the one who crossed the distance, glanced behind her as he checked for guards, and then lightly touched the top of her arm.

She was pretty sure that his touch was just a little cold, given what they'd shared. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his chest. He froze, then melted and pulled her close. She smiled at the feel of his hand stroking through her hair.

"Ellie." That was all he said, all she'd needed to hear. With him holding her like that, she could pretend that nothing had changed, nothing was different. She could convince herself that he was going to go home with her.

She looked up at him slowly, sighed, and murmured, "Fuu and Raijin wish you the best. Squall didn't think it was a good idea for them to speak to you, given the circumstances."

"Leonhart would think that," Seifer replied after just a minute, and then he drew her over to sit on the edge of some chairs pushed near the panels that operated the crane. "Did he bring you here?"

"I would have come anyway," she said quickly, but she realized when he smiled that he wasn't annoyed, wasn't being pushy or territorial. That, above everything else, surprised her. "What is that look for?"

He shook his head slightly, but when she didn't move, he explained with, "He's your brother. You're just as hard-headed as he is."

"As you are, you mean," she replied, but she reached out to touch his hand. Her fingers traced over the small scars there, relearning them, familiarizing herself with him again. "What are you doing here, Seifer?" She asked him the question hesitantly, not entirely certain that she wanted to know.

He looked at her for a long moment, and then he clasped his hands around hers. "I need to be here," he replied. "I... I did things, Ellone—"

"I know what you did." Ellone didn't want to hear him say it, not out loud like that, not with that defeated look on his face. The fallout after Ultimecia had not been kind to him, had not been the liberating joy that Ellone had discovered. His anchor, like her own, had been cut, but without it, he didn't know what to do. She was aware of this in the vaguest sense, the idea that they both had changed so much and not at all in same instant.

"I can still feel her," he confessed, and Ellone felt herself shiver in spite of the Galbadian heat. "She's... in my head. Squall killed her, but hell, she hasn't been born yet." He rubbed his forehead just a little. His other hand stayed firm around hers. She stared at it, and then she reached out to touch his temples, her eyes closing.

He pushed her away before she could do anything, before she could sense anything that might have helped. There was a worrying line beginning to form around his mouth, a grayness that hadn't been there. "Don't," he ordered lowly. "I don't want her in you."

Ellone snorted. Unladylike. That was what Seifer had done to her. "She is in me all the time," she replied with a sigh. "I spent my whole life—"

"Safe." Seifer looked back up at her then, and he didn't seem capable of stopping himself before he touched her hand again. "You were safe. That's the important thing."

Ellone sighed just a little, but she intertwined her fingers with his without really stopping to think about it. "Seifer... I want to help you." She looked up at him, bit her bottom lip, and then she shook her head. "No. I need to help you."

He managed a little smile back at her, and he rolled his shoulders. "I can't stop you, Ellie. I don't want to stop you. But I need this." He looked past her, toward the metal walls that surrounded them, and he pointed toward a strange device on the wall. "I tortured Squall there," he murmured, and she shushed him. She didn't want to hear what Ultimecia had made him do.

She had lived it, to some extent, when she had finally realized that she was inadvertently connecting Squall to Laguna. She had spent days, connecting herself to Squall, figuring out what exactly was going on. The torture had been one memory that she'd been trying to shake ever since.

"I know," she whispered, and she kissed him then. He must have tasted the tears as they slid down her cheeks and touched both of their lips, but he didn't say anything. He simply held her close, kissing her as though he wasn't certain that he'd ever see her again. She wasn't entirely sure that he would.

"I wouldn't have turned myself in," he finally murmured, "if I'd known that you were coming back to Winhill. I wouldn't have put you through this."

"I know," Ellone replied. Her hands touched either side of his face, and she smiled warmly at him. "I'm not angry." And she wasn't, not really. She had been, especially in the courtroom, but sitting there with him like that, with him looking at her like that, she couldn't be. "You're going to be okay, Seifer," she whispered. "We both will."

"So much faith."

She didn't have a choice. Faith was a way of life, the only way she'd ever survived.


End file.
